A Tip of the Cap (London League, Book 3)

by Rebecca Connolly

  Nights were the worst. No matter what Malcolm had accomplished during the day, nights were the time when all his doubts and worries plagued him more than ever. Any problem he had yet to solve revisited him with a vengeance then. Hours upon hours had been spent mulling over things, from the trivial to matters of national security, all at the expense of his sleep and peace of mind. Trying to figure out what he could do to help Beth, or what she might need, was occupying more of his nighttime hours than sleep.

  Fritz’s words the other day had given him pause, and he had focused his efforts on his wife’s needs rather than satisfying some need of his own to be useful. She was still not particularly talkative, but it no longer felt as though she were shutting out the world. She responded to the doctor’s questions when he examined her, though not in great detail, and she ate every day, though not much. The children continued to visit her during breaks in their lessons and before bed, and that was still the time when Beth seemed more herself. But the more Malcolm observed, the more he could see the strain it was on her.

  Not that she was pretending at her delight with them, for there was real joy in her with every one of them, but there was an almost equal measure of pain. And she still had not recovered her strength, so she was weak and fatigued after each visit. It left very little time or energy for Malcolm to have any real opportunity to talk with her, and he could feel the tension of a distance forming.

  He couldn’t bear distance; not from her. They had grown so close before her accident, and now…

  He couldn’t go back… they could not go back.

  A distressed cry raised him from the bed, and instantly he sat poised to move, waiting for a hint of who it might be. Jane hadn’t had another bad dream in some time, but he knew her history with them. And any of the other children could have similar experiences at any time.

  The cry came again, this time louder and more terrified. And it most definitely did not come from one of the children.

  He was running for the hallway in an instant, grateful her room was not far as his feet practically pounded along the floors. The sconces in the hall were dimmed, having not yet burned out completely, and he was grateful for the added light.

  Beth’s door was ajar, which was odd, but he paid no attention as he pushed it open, her name on his lips. It remained there, unuttered, at the sight within Beth’s room.

  Jane was on Beth’s bed, holding her stepmother’s hands as she continued to writhe on the bed. “Bitsy!” his daughter said insistently. “Bitsy, wake up!”

  “I am awake,” Beth cried, whimpering loudly, thrashing a little. Then she slumped against the pillows, moaning pitifully.

  Malcolm watched as his daughter brushed aside locks of Beth’s hair that had fallen across her face. “Bitsy, it’s all right,” Jane soothed, still clinging to her hands.

  Beth shook her head, crying helplessly, burying her face into her pillow as her cries escalated.

  It was too much to witness, and far too much to bear. He needed to put a stop to this, protect Jane, soothe Beth, and find a way to dispel this darkness from the bright star that had been his wife. He entered the room further, moving towards the other side of the bed, when Jane settled herself under the covers with Beth and snuggled up against her, releasing her hands at last.

  “Did you forget that you can’t see?” Jane asked in a small voice, still managing to sound comforting.

  Beth sniffled loudly and turned her face from the pillow, one of her hands tracing along Jane’s arm to her hair, where her fingers slowly began running through it. “Yes… I did…” she sobbed, struggling to get the words out.

  “That must be very scary.” Jane looked up at Beth, whose eyes were unfocused but looking towards the wall. “Are you frightened?”

  Beth nodded against her, still absently running her fingers through Jane’s hair. “Yes, I am frightened. It’s… very dark. All the time. And I miss the sun. I miss fires and candles and colors and faces…”

  Malcolm’s throat tightened as he listened to Beth talk about her fears, the things that she missed, all things he took for granted on a regular basis. The more Beth spoke, the more at ease he became, and the more relaxed she became. Jane listened to every word, asking questions on occasion that kept Beth talking, leaning against her more comfortably.

  “I’m sorry, Bitsy,” Jane said when Beth’s voice trailed off. “It must be very hard.”

  “It is,” Beth whispered with another sniffle. “But it helps when you children come to visit me, and when your father is with me.”

  Her words took Malcolm by surprise, and he stared at her, knowing she couldn’t see him and using it to his advantage to be quite unabashed in his consideration of her.

  “It helps to have my family here,” Beth went on, her voice softening. “That makes everything a little less frightening.”

  Her family. They were her family!

  Malcolm had difficulty swallowing for several moments after that and wanted nothing more than to cradle his wife in his arms. But he would remain here, and let his daughter tend to her stepmother as long as she was needed.

  Jane hugged herself closer to Beth and sighed sleepily, closing her eyes. “Greer tried to turn Samuel into a fairy today,” she said with a yawn.

  Beth smiled and looked down at Jane, her eyes not quite reaching her face. “What happened?”

  “Archer saved him before she could tell him about the wings.” Jane shrugged against her. “Samuel would make a better troll than a fairy, anyway.”

  Malcolm stifled a laugh, as did Beth. “Perhaps he can become a fairy some other time,” Beth offered, her smile so like her usual one it made Malcolm’s breath catch.

  Jane yawned noisily again and snuggled into Beth’s side. “How did you learn so much about fairies, Bitsy?”

  It was obvious from her sleepy voice that Jane would not be awake for much longer. Still, Beth told her about playing with her sisters and nieces, as well as with some other young girls of her acquaintance who had known far more about becoming fairies than she did. She talked about one girl she had known who had almost managed it and another who had the most beautiful dress ready for fairy transformation.

  Jane was asleep rather quickly, lulled by Beth’s tones, which were no longer emotional or tearful. Soon she was breathing deeply in the silence of the room.

  Malcolm watched for a few moments more as Beth continued to stroke Jane’s hair over and over, her expression thoughtful, if a bit wistful. It was the most at peace he had seen her since the accident, and he wanted to cling to it for as long as he could. Only when he heard Beth sigh did he move, trying to keep his steps light while still being audible to avoid startling her.

  “She’s the sweetest girl in the world,” Beth said softly, her voice now tinged with tears again.

  Malcolm paused, wondering how long she’d known he was there. “I think she must have learned sweetness from you,” he replied, at last, continuing towards the bed. “She didn’t learn it from me, I can assure you.”

  Beth kissed Jane’s head softly, then sniffed back more tears.

  “Here, let me take her back to bed.” Malcolm moved towards his daughter, ready to scoop her up.

  “She is in bed,” Beth insisted, holding the girl closer to her. She kissed her brow again, then leaned her head back against the pillow, a pair of tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.

  “Oh, Beth,” Malcolm murmured, rounding the bed to the other side.

  “Malcolm,” she whimpered, holding out a hand on the mattress. “Help me.”

  He took it in both of his, and the strength of her grip on him weakened his knees. He brought her hand to his lips, kissing it repeatedly. “I’m here, love. I’m right here.”

  Her fingers brushed against his lips, then gripped his hand tightly again. She sighed deeply and nestled more securely into the mattress and pillows. Closing her eyes, her fingers entwined with his.

  Malcolm watched Beth as she drifted off to sleep, holding her han
d the entire time. Even when her grip slackened, his never did.

  She had reached out for him again. She had called for him!

  There would be no going backwards. He would move forward into this unknown future with his wife, and he would walk with her every step of the way, for as long as it took.

  Under no circumstances would he leave her tonight. Careful not to jostle the bed, he settled himself next to her, remaining on top of the coverlet, and eased back against the pillows. He looked at her, so peaceful in her sleep, and smiled, her hand still in his grasp. Then he, too, allowed sleep to overtake him.

  There had been a dent in the pillows the morning after the nightmares.

  It had taken Beth some time to discover this in her blind state, but as she had little else to do but lay in her bed and recover, she had become quite familiar with her limited surroundings. She had sat up to have her breakfast, which the maids were still feeding to her, as she had yet to manage the thing. Her hand had felt the pillow beside her and found it had a discernible dent in it.

  Malcolm had stayed the night.

  She had mulled that over during her entire limited meal.

  After the terrifying experience of a nightmare she could not wake from, she was frantic for some assurance, some comfort to bring her back from the brink of the darkness surrounding and filling her. She’d heard his pounding steps in the hall and had felt herself keening for him to deliver her, and then to feel a much smaller set of hands taking hers and a softer, sweeter voice soothing her…

  It had humbled and shamed her. She was supposed to be dignified and composed, adapting to her situation with grace despite hardship, and her innocent Janie had come to her in a moment of raw vulnerability, in maternal imitation of her own rescue from nightmares.

  Beth had resisted at first, but eventually let Jane gently draw her back from her torment with her soft questions and tenderhearted remarks. Once her panic had faded, Beth had allowed herself to confess more than she would have to one so young. But Jane had seen and experienced enough to deserve real answers, and with Malcolm standing somewhere in the vicinity, Beth allowed herself the luxury of a rare openness, giving them both a taste of what she was missing without her vision.

  She would never be able to convey the true depth of the despair in which she lived, but it was not necessary for anyone to understand completely. It was enough that someone cared enough to come to her aid, to remind her of life beyond her sightlessness, and to hold her when the darkness was too much.

  Jane had held her in her distress. And it appeared that Malcolm had held her for the rest of the night. He had been there, at any rate.

  She would never forget the way he had taken her hand, which she had gripped as she might have a lifeline. She suspected he would have held her closely, as he had done more than once since her accident, had Jane not been asleep by her side. His hold on her hand, and the way he had kissed it, had been more than enough. She could not have felt safer or more soothed than she had at that moment.

  And then he had stayed! He’d been gone when she’d woken that morning, as had Jane, but it was enough that she knew.

  Beth had come to a very firm decision shortly after she finished her breakfast. She would no longer remain a helpless invalid. Blind she may be, but no longer helpless. She determined to find a way through this hardship and somehow live the best way she could. She would no longer be neither a wife, nor a mother, laid up in bed feeling sorry for herself. She needed to live her life, such as it was.

  That day, she rose from her bed for the first time in over a week.

  She’d not been able to do much more than that, as she was very weak, and the adjustment had made her head swim, but she’d managed it three more times that day and had even taken a few steps the final time.

  It seemed that Malcolm had also made some firm decisions after that night, including moving Beth from her rooms to his. Despite her objections to being underfoot and fussed over, he insisted in the charming and superior way that was his, and she had no choice but to concede to his wishes.

  “I just want to have you closer,” he’d told her in a surprisingly gentle tone, running a hand over her hair. “The next time you wake from one nightmare to another, I want to be there for you.”

  He’d gone on to explain that he would sleep in the dressing room adjoining, and she would have all the privacy she wished for, but Beth didn’t hear a single word of that explanation. She was clinging to the tender admission that he wanted to be near her.

  Flashes of his tempting almost-smile came to mind, and her heart flickered within her.

  Beth needed no other reason to improve than that.

  She began learning her way around Malcolm’s room slowly, feeling her way step by step. Her head soon adjusted to being upright and no longer perturbed her in her efforts. She was still not entirely steady, but her pace was slow enough that it was not a significant issue.

  Her lack of sight, on the other hand…

  She huffed a lock of hair out of her face now as she prepared to make another pass around the room. Three days of attempting the same path without incident, and she had yet to manage it. Her toes were bruised and swollen in places, she could tell, but she was determined to succeed. How could she manage to find her way around the vast expanse of the house if she could not manage to find her way around this room?

  Still clad in her nightdress, as she always was these days, Beth began to edge around the room, her hand stretched out almost confidently for the wall directly across from her. Step by careful step she moved forward, remembering the corner of the large grandfather clock that had caught her by surprise a number of times. Just when she wondered if she had turned around and gone the wrong way, her fingers grazed the smooth wallpaper. She heaved a sigh of relief as she pressed her palm to the wall.

  She would have to speak to Malcolm about the size of his quarters. There was entirely too much room in here, and it was quite terrifying. Faintly wondering about the pattern of his wallpaper, and unable to recall it, she turned, keeping her hand on the wall as a guide and began to walk again. Carefully maneuvering around the grandfather clock, she counted her steps, one hand returning to the wall while the other remained outstretched for the obstacles. The bureau ought to have been ten paces from the window, and she was only now feeling the cool glass panes.

  It was a maddeningly slow process and one that she wished she could somehow avoid. She was as insecure in her steps as a child, and twice as vulnerable in the process. She could not protect herself if she fell, as she had no idea where she was falling or what was beneath her. Somehow walking without sight was far more difficult than it ever had been to walk with her eyes closed. How easily she became disoriented!

  Her left hand found the bureau before her, and she grinned in relieved delight. She fumbled her way around it, and when she returned to the wall, she exhaled slowly. This was as far as she had come before, and she had no notion of what was next. If her husband had had any sense, he would have listened to her when she asked to remain in her own room. But how could she confess to him that she was trying to explore her room and her abilities, when he would be more likely to tie her to the bed for venturing out?

  Beth paused as she reached the corner of the wall. Right, she thought. She was still feeling strong and determined, so she would continue. There was no victory until she managed the entire room, and she could not pretend otherwise.

  Turning, she began along the unknown wall once more. Five paces in, a chair met her feet and body and she, too accustomed to the ease of her way, was entirely unprepared for it. She gasped as she tumbled to the ground, turning herself to avoid falling face first into the floor. Her body landed with a loud crashing sound, and her head pounded furiously with the motion, though somehow, she avoided hitting it again.

  Beth winced as her body began to ache in various places, and she felt her face burn with the shame of her failure. She’d never fallen to the ground in her attempts before, and if she hurt hersel
f again, it would be some time before she could try again.

  If she tried again.

  Tears stung at her eyes, and she curled against the rug upon which she’d fallen, gripping it with her fingers. She could not even manage to walk around this room! How could she possibly manage to live any sort of normal life this way?

  She heard a familiar set of footsteps pounding their way down the hall, and her tears intensified, knowing that her embarrassment would be discovered at any moment by the man she desperately wished to be whole for.

  “Beth!” Malcolm called, nearer than she expected. “Beth!”

  He ought not to sound so afraid. There was no reason for him to fear. It was only his invalid wife collapsed on the floor, but she was well enough. Blind, but otherwise whole.

  The door to the room opened, and she heard his step pause only momentarily.

  “Beth, are you hurt? What happened?” he asked, moving again, his arms suddenly scooping her up.

  His voice was so tender, so familiar, that it soothed the aches in her body, though it only intensified the ache in her heart. They had grown so close before her accident, and their budding relationship had held such promise, and now her foolish accident stood in the way of their grand future. As he was an honorable man, he would see to her care all his days, tend to her every need. Instead of his wife, she would become his burden. It was all too much to bear!

  Malcolm settled her back onto the bed, brushed back her hair and sat on the bed next to her. “Beth, what happened?”

  She shook her head, forcing her tears back, though they refused to subside completely. “I was being foolish, please don’t concern yourself.”

  He took her hand in his and pressed it gently. “I doubt that, and I do concern myself. With you.”

  Beth closed her eyes on her tears, though the darkness remained the same. “I was trying to walk the room. I’ve been trying to manage it for days, and I got as far as the corner. It’s the furthest I’ve ever gone without injury to my toes. And then…”